Like many college kids, I always enjoyed when our prof opted to show us a film in class instead of pacing about with the standard lecture. At no time was this option more appreciated than when it came to night classes. My Monday night Communications Law class was a tedious exercise; a continual quest to stay focused, oh, heck—to stay awake. Needless to say, I was thrilled the night Professor Shenton walked in with a VHS tape under his arm.

He simply said the film (my favorite four-letter word), was an historical, classic struggle pitting the right of a free press against the U.S. Government. The best part was that it was based on the real-life drama surrounding Watergate. (Followed closely by the fact that Robert Redford played the role of Washington Post reporter Bob Woodward.)

Now, by this time in my junior year I had taken a wide range of classes associated with many areas of the communicative arts including public relations, marketing, and advertising, to determine what area of communications I would pursue as my livelihood. It only took a few moments of watching that film to convince me that my decision to pursue print journalism was the right one. I actually got chills down my spine as the camera did its close-ups on typewriter keys as they quickly struck paper, branding it with ink. I remember it was such a tight close-up you could see the fibers in the paper. An entire government was brought to its knees with those keys and the world had the opportunity to see journalists as the good guys.

I, too, want to be seen as a good guy. I recently read a poll about how journalism is viewed among the least-trusted of professions, up there with lawyers and car salespeople. Gosh, I found that distressing. I personally take great pride in the work I do. I realize it’s not brain surgery and there are way more important professions to pursue, but writing has been around since the chisel and the rock. It is a time-honored profession endeavored by the likes of Samuel Clemens, Seymour Hersh, and Jimmy Breslin.

The problem is that some people use their First Amendment right to exploit others for financial gain. And there is definitely a difference between those earning an honest living in this field and the others who crawl among life’s underbelly for a story.  The difference in my case is that I prefer reporting in my neck of the woods, and as a consumer, I love to listen to the stories my neighbors tell me, not the ones Geraldo Rivera tells me about Lindsey Lohan’s lesbian relationship.

Not to say journalism hasn’t taking its knocks when it comes to accuracy in reporting and legitimacy of sources and the reporters themselves, i.e. The New York Times reporter who was discovered totally fabricating stories and sources. For myself, I can’t even fathom how he thought he’d get away with that. At least I know that I always try very hard to get it right. I apologize and retract when I don’t, and I always strive to do better. I know people have their opinions about what I do and that I take in stride. I guess just like any other profession, there are bad apples in every bunch—some more rotten than others: Madoff, Kozlowski, Nixon. Hopefully, journalists collectively provide more upside by keeping society abreast of current events, by disseminating pertinent information, and even by reporting on who won first prize at the annual chili cook-off.

I know am not going to get rich doing what I do. But that’s not what matters to me. After all, I just want to be the good guy.